Will you not give me a warmer zeal?

My soul lies cleaving to the dust
Lord, give me life divine.
From vain desires, from every lust
Lord, turn these eyes of mine.

When sore afflictions press me down,
I need thy quickening powers;
Thy word that I have rested on,
Shall help my heaviest hours.

Are not thy mercies sovereign still,
And thou a faithful God?
Wilt thou not grant me warmer zeal
To run the heavenly road.

Then I shall love thy precepts more,
And ne’er forget thy word,
When I have felt its quickening pow’r
To draw me near the Lord. --Gadsby 402, by Watts, I think